


fate is a cruel motherfucker

by orphan_account



Series: what makes a hero? [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Platonic Relationships, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, i blame bri specifically, it's a cute soulmate au ok, romantic relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 18:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6435841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>your soulmate's first words are written in white or black on your body. (a series of short drabbles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	fate is a cruel motherfucker

In another world, Natasha Romanoff is pure. Clean. Her skin bears no signature, no quote to guide her towards her soulmate. _Fitting,_ she thinks on good days. I am the master of my own fate. None will control my destiny. Love is for children, and Natasha owes nothing. 

(On bad days, she scrubs at her skin and wishes for something she can cling onto, for what is an assassin without a target?)

Madame B. says Natasha is made of marble, and Natasha believes her. Who else has skin pure and unblemished like she does? Not Yelena Belova, who tries to hide Natasha’s first words curled across her shoulder, who shows Natasha’s words to her excitedly and asks to see hers, who is given a polite nod and a strict beating from Madame B. 

Fate never intended for her to meet Bucky Barnes. Who would have predicted that a man like him would follow his best friend into war, again, only to be captured, again, and turned into a living weapon with a penchant for pretty girls and ballerinas? 

But he did, and she does, and on a cold Russian night Bucky shows her the words on his neck he doesn’t remember: _Jerk._ Natasha shows him her unmarked skin and Bucky pulls her closer, whispers, _Let’s make our own fate then._ Natasha grins into his arms and turns and knocks him into the wall. 

(Then she defects and the last bullet fired at her before she’s safe is from Bucky’s gun. She knows it was his duty, that being the Winter Soldier comes before being Bucky, but she wipes away tears anyways. It hurts to forge your own path and get burned by the flames.)

When she meets Clint Barton, whose first words to her are belligerent, she laughs in disbelief when _Put your hands up, Romanova!_ appears in shaky letters scrawled across her hip. But the lettering is white, not black like the others, and she knows it’s because the only thing she ever wanted was a friend. 

 

In another world, the nape of Clint’s neck is marked with black cursive lettering: _She smiles._ He thinks for a long time that, oh dear lord Jesus, he’ll get stuck with a guitar-playing indie pop barista with unhealthy hippie tendencies. Who the hell says _She smiles_ in a normal conversation? 

Then Natasha Romanoff appears in his line of sight and the first thing she does when he yells at her is grin slyly, knowing eyes glinting with amusement. _She smiles_ and suddenly Clint understands _._ He lays down his bow and asks her to come with him, but kinder this time.

Her words, of course, are his, but written in alabaster rather than obsidian. Clint does not stop loving her when she pulls away from him, reaching for her shirt, shaking her head _no_ a thousand times over. Not when she jerks awake in the bed across, gasping for breath, and he spends the rest of the night rubbing circles into her spine. Not when she tells him her caresses are only to leech out his warmth. 

Natasha can only ever find rest on Clint’s collarbone. No - Clint does not stop loving her. Who ever said soulmates had to be lovers?

Clint runs into Bobbi Morse on a covert mission to rescue a Very Important Person, and he tries to convince himself that the smile she flashes him is the same one he got from Natasha. Bobbi shows him the words she has, dancing on her collarbone: _Hi, I’m Clint._ He kisses her and they huddle together for warmth; Clint pretends he doesn’t notice the black markings fade every day. 

The two kiss one day for the last time and then Bobbi’s gone. Clint does not follow. 

He meets Laura Cardenelli in a coffee shop. When she cracks a smirk that sends sparks arcing down his spine and breaks his heart the way Natasha’s did ten years ago, he falls head over heels in love. 

(Who ever said you couldn’t give your heart out twice?)

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry it's so short. you can reach me at watneys.co.vu, my guy, thanks for stopping by. bri is at @lonelystar. go check out her works, one of which is a stevebucky fic that doesn't make you want to set yourself on fire!


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